All that matters
by richard the pedantic
Summary: AU Set somewhere in series 5. When Buffy is murdered, Angel becomes obsessed with revenge, which distracts him from two threats that could lead to the world's destruction.
1. Surprise

**Greetings to all that are here. I'm guessing that a lot of you are angry about Angel being cancelled so I've decided to rub salt in the wound by, um, I mean try and ease the pain in some small way by writing this.**  
  
**Disclaimer: I do not own Angel or anything that falls from the brain of the mighty Joss Whedon. Also, if I've ripped off someone else's idea then please tell me and I'll think of something else. If this has happened then I apologise.**

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**All that matters.**  
  
**By Richard Paul  
  
Chapter 1: Surprise**  
  
The streets of Rome, somewhat surprisingly, shone brilliantly due to the unimpressive looking street lamps. The streets themselves however were all but deserted, most people were either fast asleep in their beds or had crammed themselves into assorted bars or clubs that were littered about the town.   
  
Buffy couldn't sleep. The reason for this being a mixture of the uncomfortably warm temperature, and the fact that the assorted chaos of the past few months had passed, and she and Dawn had finally moved into their new apartment, (which although being somewhat smaller then her old house, was not filled with chittering potentials fighting for the bathroom), and lives in Italy had brought back thoughts that she'd had no time to dwell upon recently.  
  
There were now hundreds, maybe even thousands of slayers all over the world. Each of them was slowly being located by Giles, (and a handful of watchers who had avoided a fiery death) and were being taught about their power, their destiny, how to use a stake. When this fact first occurred to Buffy, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Like Faith said, 'you gotta live like a person'. Two months on, this still seemed like a beautiful dream that she'd soon wake up from.  
  
There were also those that didn't make it. A short stab of sorrow hit Buffy as she remembered those that had been lost, Molly, Eve, Amanda. One second she'd been a conventional teenager with a cheery personality and a history of pounding her classmates, the next she'd been a bloodied corpse on the floor.  
  
_ You can't blame yourself for that_, Part of Buffy's mind uttered, _they knew the risks, and if you lead people into a battle, some of them are going to die, remember?  
_  
Unbidden, an image of Spike's encouraging speech, which had brought her back from the edge of despair and helped her to win the final battle, sprang to her mind. She banished it. It was still to painful to think of Spike. In spite of what he had said, she did love him, and he'd died before that love could truly amount to anything.  
  
_ He knew the risks too, and he wouldn't want you to blame yourself, or feel miserable.  
_  
"Yeah, yeah." She responded to the pestiferous thought.  
  
She had no intention of hanging up her wooden stakes for the rest of time. But for now, it was nice to live life without the fear of Demons leaping out of the shadows, or unexpected surprises. Rome seemed to have an aura of calm that made a welcome change to Sunnydale's aura of impending doom.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Buffy jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, with shock and sudden joy flooding threw her, she turned hurriedly and saw the face of Spike, whose face appeared to be revealing similar emotions.  
  
_It was impossible_, her mind uttered after the shock had died down somewhat, _he was dead.  
_  
"Spike?" Her voice, chocked with emotion, was barely able to utter the word, "is that…"  
  
The appearance of shock and joy on Spike's face dropped abruptly, in its place was a smug, almost sinister grin.  
  
"No, not really." he said as he waved a hand effortlessly through a nearby lamppost.  
  
Buffy's emotions changed as abruptly as 'Spike's' facial expression. The joy was replaced by anger, as well as recognition. She was looking at the First.  
  
She scolded herself for the slip up briefly, before returning her attention to the Spike shaped evil in front of her. The fact that it had chosen to show itself as Spike angered her, mainly because it brought back more painful memories, (which was precisely why the First had chose it.)  
  
"I'm surprised you've got the nerve to show your face around here." Buffy said, her voice filled with grim satisfaction.  
  
The First barely flinched.  
  
"I have to admit, I was surprised by that fancy trinket of yours. Very inconvenient. Set…"  
  
_"Inconvenient?_ We kicked your ass, as well as the asses of your army turned dust. I'd call that a little more then inconvenient; humiliating maybe."  
  
"The sun kicked my arse." Traces of anger and impatient were slipping into the voice, "All you and your group of upgraded whores did was stumble about feebly until the necklace thing started working. Besides, if you'd have let me finish, I would have said that all you did was set me back a couple of months."  
  
"And how is that? There are slayers all over the world now, you're not…"  
  
Buffy's voice was cut off suddenly by a familiar, low pitched growling that sent an icy chill up her spine. Quickly regaining her composure however, she looked in the direction of the sound for the beast that had made it.  
  
"Tell me something Buffy, have you ever heard the expression, don't put all your eggs in one basket?"  
  
Buffy's gaze returned to the First, grim realisation was sinking in.  
  
"You don't think I would have been stupid enough to keep all the beasties under the seal did you? Come on Buffy, give me some credit."  
  
Buffy wasn't listening. The growling had grown louder, and was coming from more then one place. Her first instinct was to run, to regain the higher ground as she put it, but it soon occurred to her that the Turukhan surrounded her, and running would just mean running straight into one.  
  
"Call me petty if you must love," The First seemed to be resisting the urge to laugh, "But I thought a little vengeance might make me feel better."  
  
The first of the beasts came into view. The vampire leaped over a nearby car. As it landed, it seemed to grin sadistically at Buffy, showing its numerous sharp fangs.  
  
A second one appeared behind her. This one was armed with a knife that was stained with dripping blood which suggested recent use.  
  
_I'll kill him_ _first._ Thought Buffy as she noticed this.  
  
Turukhan appeared all around her now; they had formed a crude circle around her. Each of them was hissing and snarling at her, waiting for the First to give the order to rip her to pieces.  
  
Buffy examined her surroundings again, this time looking for anything she could use to propel herself out of the circle, a car, a bench, anything. There was nothing.  
  
"Goodbye Buffy." The First said, (making no attempt to hide the satisfaction in its voice,) before vanishing.  
  
The first of the Turukhan came at Buffy; the beast launched an unsuccessful kick at her head before attempting to land a punch at her chest. Buffy hastily moved forward and to the left, thereby evading the blow and placing herself next to the beast. Once there, she drew a stake from her jacket pocket and drove it through the Turukhan's ribs.  
  
The Vampire exploded in a cloud of dust. The primal satisfaction that accompanied the kill was cut short as the remaining Vampires, angered by the slayer's victory, charged at her.  
  
She dealt the closest one a kick to the face which sent it spinning to the ground with a cry of pain. She was less successful at blocking the other attacks however.  
  
A blow to the ribs sent her flying backwards and skidding across the pavement. The Turukhan ran after her. She sprang to her feet more quickly then they had anticipated however, and their surprise allowed Buffy to drive her stake into another Turukhan's chest. The dust blew quickly away from the battle zone.  
  
One of the vampires grabbed Buffy's arm and bit into it. She suppressed a scream, but her stake fell to the floor. She landed a punch to the Turukhan's head, his teeth left her arm, causing a new wave of pain as they went.  
  
A second beast drove its fist into her face, sending her flying backwards once again, this time into a brick wall. The barrier gave slightly as Buffy collided with it.  
  
Pushing herself off of the floor was harder then before, and blood trickled from her mouth as she did so.  
  
The Turukhan wasted no time; one of the creatures quickly reached her position and placed one hand on her forehead, another on the back of her head. Buffy knew what was coming, she tried to release her head from the grip, but it was too late.  
  
The vampire twisted, and Buffy's neck snapped with an audible crack. A new round of triumphant growling accompanied this as the surviving Turukhan examined their kill.

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To be continued. Also I'm pretty sure I'm spelling Turukhan incorrectly so if someone knows the correct spelling, please tell me. 


	2. Holes

**Thanks to all reviewing persons, and to whoever it was who shoved me on their author alert list. Sorry to disappoint you but in this story Buffy is and will forever stay dead. Also, just so you know this is set somewhere in season 5 before Lindsey's first appearance.**

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**Chapter 2: Holes**  
  
Los Angeles by day.  
  
The sight of the buildings, trees, cars, billboards and people below him, illuminated in brilliant sunshine still looked alien to Angel. When he'd first come to be C.O of Wolfram and Hart, he'd made a point to avoid looking out of the windows when the sun was up. This was due partially to a lingering fear that he'd burst into flames if he gawked at the sun for more then half a second, but mainly because of a reluctance to accept anything that Wolfram and Hart had to offer, with the exception of anything that could help him defeat them.  
  
Once the fear had died down and his loathing of Wolfram and Hart had died down to its usual levels, he'd began to see the windows in a different light. They were something that he'd earned, for every life saved, every demon killed, he felt as if he had earned the right to look at the sun again. Also, he continually maintained that it would take more then fancy windows and a bright, pretty, glowing sphere to make him the Senior Partners sock puppet.  
  
He didn't believe for a second what Lilah had told him about the senior partners giving him Wolfram and Hart because he'd ended world peace. He knew they weren't stupid, and that they wouldn't hand something so powerful over to him unless there was a way for them to gain from it. He didn't know what that was yet, but with the new power and resources that he had at his disposal, there was serious potential to tip the scales of good and evil into good's favour. In LA at least.  
  
And that was what he and the others had been doing. As Gunn had told him, With Wolfram and Hart's LA branch at their disposal, they' been able to do more good in a couple of months then they had in the several years they had spent at Angel Investigations.  
  
Angel's thoughts were stopped in mid track by the sound of a knocking at the door, which was immediately followed by Gunn and Wesley walking into his office.  
  
Angel immediately noticed that Gunn, who appeared to have been smiling almost constantly since Wolfram and Hart downloaded numerous encyclopaedias worth of law into his head, now looked angry, almost enraged. Wesley wasn't looking much better, although he was more successful in concealing it.  
  
"Bad news?" Angel asked before taking his seat.  
  
"You could say that." Wesley replied in a quiet tone of voice.  
  
"Ever hear of a guy called Gythurit Ghartasthreassdo?" Gunn asked, his composure returning, before dropping a thin manila folder in front of Angel.   
  
"Gyther Garasthrado?" Angel replied, attempting and failing to get the name right.  
  
"Gythurit Ghartasthreassdo." Wesley corrected. "He's a warlord for one of the assorted small Demon clans in Los Angeles."  
  
"And?"   
  
Gunn gestured at the file. Angel reached across the table, pulled it towards him, opened it, and found a typed report and two photographs inside, both of which were of large craters in indistinguishable locations.  
  
"Those used to be Basildon and Killay." Wesley said, "One was a fairly small town in England, another was a village in Wales. Gythurit destroyed them both a little over an hour ago."   
  
"Why?" Asked Angel, with confussion and disbelief which the photographs had created within him quickly turning to anger.  
  
"From what the records say, this guy had enemies in both places." Gunn said.  
  
"And he felt it was easier to blow two large holes in the Earth then go after his enemies." Wesley finished.  
  
"Almost one million people were killed."  
  
"We're not sure yet how he was able to destroy both places, but we're guessing that it has to be magic of some description. According to the report, there were no increased levels of radiation round the craters, and they're also both perfect circles, conventional…"  
  
Wesley cut himself off as the cup of blood in Angel's left hand shattered as the hand closed to a fist. Jagged pieces cut into the surrounding flesh, but in top of the anger, Angel barely felt it.  
  
"You say this guy's in LA?" His voice was almost a whisper.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I say we pay him a visit."  
  
"Sounds good to me." Fred said as she walked through the open door. Her voice was tinged with a rare bloodlust which Angel had only ever heard once, shortly before she tried to murder professor Sydel for sending her to Pylea.   
  
There was a brief pause as Fred moved to the centre of the room. Whilst this was happening, Angel removed a piece of jagged porcelain from the sleeve of his shirt and dropped it casually on the floor.  
  
"What happened to your hand?" Asked Fred who had noticed the blood trickling to the floor.  
  
"Doesn't matter." Angel replied quickly "What have you got?"  
  
"According to one of the psychics, Gyther or whatever the son of a bitch's name is, lives in an abandoned factory, turned Demon lair near the outskirts of LA. The area's pretty much deserted."  
  
"No one ever goes near the whole area," Interrupted Wesley, "unless they've been abducted by one of Gythurit's minions so as to be an evening meal."  
  
"Angel." The soft voice, tinged with smug callousness almost resulted in an involuntary snarl from Angel.  
  
"Eve, not now." He said through his teeth.  
  
Eve ignored him and walked to the desk.  
  
"The Senior partners want you to bring back whatever it is Ghartasthreassdo used to destroy both villages. They don't think it's practical to have such power in the hands of someone so wholly unimportant."  
  
"Do you think any of us give a damn what the senior partners want?" Angel asked, calm steadily returning to his voice, "We're gonna destroy whatever he's got and make sure no where else gets incinerated."  
  
For a split second, Eve's calm faltered. Her mouth twitched as if an insect had collided with it, and the stare she gave Angel made it look as if she was considering ramming a finger into his eye.  
  
Then it was gone, and her appearance of calm returned.  
  
"Can you all give me and Angel a moment please?" She said.  
  
Everyone looked to Angel, who nodded briefly. Wesley, Gunn and Fred proceeded to leave the room in no apparent hurry. Once they were gone, Eve turned back to Angel, she was almost smiling.  
  
"Haven't you figured out yet that you don't say no to the senior partners without serious consequences?"  
  
"Haven't you figured out yet that I'm not evil?" Angel was almost smiling as well, "I'm not going to hand a weapon of mass destruction over to people or demons or whatever they hell they are, who would use it as such, I don't much care about what it would do to my health."  
  
"Ang…"  
  
"Got it?!" Angel half shouted.  
  
There was another silence; this one lasted only a few seconds. After they had passed, Eve smiled slightly and made her way for the door.  
  
"Got it." She said, sounding a lot like she was resisting the urge to laugh.

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**To be continued  
  
Also, no offence to the persons of Killay and Basildon, and I know it doesn't seem relevant to the story line just yet but it will.**


	3. Heads, they win

**Thankings once more to all reviewing type persons. Replies are at the end of the chapter. I won't be replying that often though. I tried to reply for every chapter in a Matrix story I did and thinking up things to write usually takes as long as writing the chapter itself.  
  
Anyway, moving on…**

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**Chapter 3: Heads, they win**  
  
"Since this guy can level cities when he wants, it's probably not a good idea to go charging in guns blazing."  
  
Angel nodded, almost in disappointment, at Fred's statement. He had hoped to barge in, decapitate every one of Gythurit's minions and watch him shriek in terror before he tore his throat out, slowly. He wanted to make him suffer for everyone who had been died because of him.  
  
"Also," Wesley added, "Since he is, and has roughly 50 Fretatharek demons at his command, we'll have to watch out for a poison that their bodies produce that they inject into their bodies through their teeth. It basically boils the victims internal organs over a period of roughly two hours."  
  
There was an almost disturbing calm in Wesley's voice as he informed the others of this fact, as well as an almost sadistic grin as he noticed the disturbed facial expression from Lorne.  
  
"Frethesteth?" Asked Gunn in an exasperated tone of voice, "What is it with these guys and names that are ridiculously hard to say?"  
  
"Fred? Wes? Anyone?" Angel said sternly, not wanting the discussion to drift off topic, "Any idea on how to decapitate this guy without having any more towns explode?"  
  
Wesley was the first to speak.  
  
"My people have searched through all relevant data on mystical items that could create large, symmetrical craters and came up with this." He handed a photograph that he had been carrying to Angel.  
  
"It's called the orb of the Shapers." Wesley continued, "They were an ancient and extinct race of Demons who tried to re-shape the world and kill all of humanity in the process. Fortunately, they were wiped out by their own creations. There was only one known remaining orb in existence and until last year it was in the possession of the Watcher's council."  
  
"So you think this Gythurit guy found it in the rubble?" Lorne asked incredulously.  
  
"It's doubtful, the orbs are surprisingly fragile. It probably exploded alone with the council building. No, I think Gythurit stumbled across a new one."  
  
There was a brief silence whilst everyone absorbed this information.   
  
"Any way to neutralise these things safely?" Angel asked, placing the photograph back onto the desk for the rest of the group to see.  
  
"We're still working on that. The Shapers weren't known for their common sense and we're not sure they built an off switch on the orbs."  
  
"Keep looking, as long as that thing works, Gythurit could easily destroy…"  
  
"Mr. Angel sir." Angel looked to the door to see the unsurprisingly nervous face of the new mail deliverer, known only as 'Larry'.  
  
"What is it?" Angel asked, not caring much about the man's state of mind.  
  
"You, uh, have a delivery." He stuttered.  
  
"Well bring it in." Angel replied after sighing in exasperation.  
  
Larry hastily made his way to the desk and deposited a fairly large parcel on the desk. He then virtually sprinted out of the room. Angel's interest in the situation barely increased. Most of the staff had come to fear him after, (as they called it), 'the purges' began. The process by which Angel killed every employee who was killing humans, whether they did this or not, the employees of Wolfram and Hart had become increasingly paranoid since Angel took over as C.E.O.  
  
When Larry had left the room with no lingering scraps of dignity to show for his visit, Angle reached for the package and wearily undid the strings.  
  
"As I was saying," Angel said, "Until we can find a way to neutralise this thing, every city in the world is in danger of being reduced to rubble."  
  
"I've been skimming threw the contracts and records in the arch…"  
  
Gunn cut himself off as the contents of the parcel fell onto the desk.   
  
The contents caused everyone to instinctively step backwards, soon after this they regained their composure and stepped forward again.  
  
"No." Angel whispered in disbelief. He couldn't accept the sight that was before him. It was impossible.  
  
Buffy Summers' severed head revealed an obvious expression of pain. Her features had frozen in the earliest stage of a scream before she died. The flesh around her neck was stretched, showing an already horrified Angel that her head had been twisted off.  
  
"Is that…" Wesley, whose disbelief was almost as great as Angel's, stopped himself in mid sentence.  
  
"What the," Gunn cut himself off "Who the hell is that."  
  
Angel wasn't listening. His mind had turned to a chaotic mesh of confussion, disbelief, anger and fear. Part of him wanted to break down and cry, another wanted to destroy everything around him.  
  
_Get out of there,_ said a part of his mind that could still think rationally, _get out now!  
_  
Angel pushed himself out of the chair and forced himself to maintain a deadpan facial expression.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Where are you…?"  
  
He ignored the calls from the others. He barely noticed the presence of anything or anyone around him as he made his way to the elevator.  
  
The elevator itself was empty, and unnervingly quiet. The usual humming it produced when in motion seemed to be drowned out by Angel's anger, which in turn was drowning out everything, the confussion, the disbelief, even the despair. All that mattered now was the anger.  
  
Unbidden, an image of the spontaneous kiss that he and Buffy had shared in Sunnydale sprang into his mind. Her speech which showed that there was, somewhere down the line, a future for them. A future that was now dead, as dead as she was.  
  
Angel forced the image from his head and tried, in vain, to stop the new wave of pain it had brought forth. The rage he felt caused him to slam his fist into the elevator's wall. It gave slightly under the force of the blow and the elevator shook somewhat but continued its ascension at a steady pace.  
  
Eventually, Angel arrived at the suite that Wolfram and Hart had given him. The sun was all but gone, casting a shadow over the room.   
  
The first thing Angel did after stepping inside and locking the door was to take as many things that easily breakable and hurl that at the wall that was furthest from him. If anyone outside heard the sound of property damage and the grunts of exertion from Angel, they were smart enough to ignore them and walk away.  
  
Angel was still angry after every smashable item in the room had been destroyed. But now he was thinking more clearly. He clawed through his memories, trying to think of anyone who had the will and resources to kill Buffy. After almost an hour however, he could come up with only one possibility.  
  
"Haven't you figured out yet that you don't say no to the senior partners without serious consequences?"  
  
The statement that Eve had told him earlier that day replayed over and over in his head. Behind the new wave of anger and bloodlust, there was also understanding. The 'serious consequence' had just been delivered to Angel in a neatly wrapped parcel. The Senior Partners were punishing him for his disobedience. Buffy was dead, and it was his fault.  
  
_No it wasn't,_ a part of his mind said to the rest of him, _this is their doing, this is her doing._  
  
Angel's head snapped upwards at this realisation, and he launched a hand swiftly towards his phone.  
  
"Hello?" Harmony's voice added to Angel's anger. The irritation he typically felt towards her was now amplified.  
  
"Harmony," he said, forcing calm into his voice, "Where is Eve?"  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, thanks once more to all reviewers and now for the replies which you probably all skipped to the end early for.  
  
**Naz: Shave your own goat you freeloader. Your reviews grow stranger by the week, or chapter I guess I should say, oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
buffy1: Oh, thanks. If i ever feel less lazy I'll correct the errors in chapter 1.  
  
Tariq: Alas poor Angel shall remain cookie-less, I would say more but I can't think of anything. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Biscuit: Angel should be getting vengeful by the next chapter, and Angel seeing Buffy's head is as much of a reunion as you'll see, (sort of), I'm afraid. In any case, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Brianna: Thanks I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's always difficult to respond to reviews like yours because all I can think of to say is thanks for reviewing. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.**


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